


Neku's Not-so-Secret Report

by ImperfectOrphanage



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 11:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10762914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperfectOrphanage/pseuds/ImperfectOrphanage
Summary: Mr. H has some explaining to do.





	Neku's Not-so-Secret Report

 

The bell on the WildKat Café’s cracked glass door chimed discordantly. Inside, Neku found Mr. H working to repair the damage caused by Minamimoto. There were cups smashed on the floor, ketchup and mustard bottles crushed in puddles of sticky goo, and the walls were covered in cracks and burns. On the counter were several long gashes, and the only thing spared of the carnage was the cash register.

“Heya, Phones, fancy seein’ you ‘ere.”

Neku said nothing as he sat down at the only working bar stool. The rest had missing seats or were cracked and crumbled into bits of wood. He exhaled, sharply, and tossed a cardboard box on the counter. More specifically, a white and orange box filled with papers.

It must have unnerved Mr. H, because he froze in his work and tried in vain to put on a playful grin. “What’cha got-“

“Cut the fucking formalities,” Neku said, “and tell me what the fuck this shit is. I found them all over the city and I’m very, very pissed at you and him.”

“Well, y’know-“

Neku glared daggers at the barista. “Guess what? I took my own notes.”

He slammed a notepad onto the counter and flipped through it.

“Report One – Apparently Mr. H knew about the shit going down and didn’t have the balls to tell me. Report Two – Thanks for the praise on my awesomeness, but fuck you for saying I had a rift. I had a rift? I had a fucking friend get murdered in front of me and you call it a rift? Report Three…”

“Okay, okay, geesh,” Mr. H said, waving his hands. “It ain’t like I wanted ta lie to ya.”

“Referencing Report Nine and Twenty-one,” Neku replied, flipping through the notebook. He stared at Mr. H with all the hate he could muster. “You are a fucking fallen angel and you think it’d look bad to open your damn mouth and say, oh, by the way, the asshole following you around shot you in the face and he’s kind of a prick, maybe you should punch him in the dick repeatedly.”

“Phones-“

Neku continued. “Report Eight – The Composer wanted to teach me and protect me. Yeah, okay, what the fuck ever because the only shit I learned was not to trust him and that he knows a lot about stupid shit he probably learned on the internet out of boredom. Is his idea of protecting me shooting me twice, throwing me into a life or death game without warning, and then just leaving when the going got rough? Not to mention he’s not returning my calls or texts.”

Sighing, the barista sat down on a stool behind the counter. He spread his legs wide and leaned on the counter with is elbows. “Look, Neku. I want ta answer yer questions but-“

“I have so many things scribbled here that you do not want to see, trust me. Most of it involves hitting you in the face, hitting Joshua in the face, and ripping certain anatomical parts off to shove down their respective owner’s throats. Now,” he paused, coughing, “I have tried hard to understand the fucked up moral compass of people in the Underground and I can’t. I can’t. You knew. You fucking knew and you just let all that shit happen because it made Shibuya better? You let me and the others suffer because it made us better people and you think, you think that justifies it?!”

“Neku, listen-“

“No. _You_ listen. Report Twenty-two,” he snarled, trying in vain not to cry out of anger, “absolutely-fucking-not justified. It will never be justified. You forced me to like your work. You befriended me. You befriended me and you lied to me. You used me like a tool. You used me just like Joshua did and…you tried to kill him. I don’t like Joshua. I don’t like what he did. But you were his _friend_. You were his mentor and the only person he had in life outside of his family and you worked against him and tried to get him murdered.”

The barista rubbed his face. “I’m tryin’ ta explain.”

“No. I don’t want anymore lies. I don’t want sugar coated shit and I don’t want to hear it. I trusted you, I believed in you, and I put my fucking life in your hands and you just…you don’t _care_ because you think it’s okay if it works out.”

“Neku, please calm down. Be rational.”

“Rational? You want me to be rational?” Neku slapped the box off the counter. The reports scattered over the floor and the bar with a soft fluttering. He punched the counter with his fist and he trembled with the force of his emotions. “I don’t want to be rational if it means being like _you_.”

The words hit hard. Neku saw Mr. H flinch and the usually cheery barista’s eyes went dark.

“Neku, you don’t understand.”

“No, I-“

“Be quiet!” Mr. H’s voice boomed against the walls and ceiling, shaking the hanging lamps. “It is time for you to listen to me.”

Neku wanted to move. He wanted to back away. He was caught by the sight of two large, black wings stretching out behind Mr. H. They were feathered and beautiful before the hundreds of eyes peered out from under the plumage. Mr. H’s face contorted and he had a series of eyes and a mouth filled with sharp teeth from ear to ear. The clothes he wore melted at the force of his power, and the nakedness of his body was nothing to be alarmed at. His body stopped at the waist as it dissolved into light. Mr. H snarled and a red brand appeared on his chest.

_“Do you think it was easy for me? Do you think I wanted to do what I had to, to protect Shibuya? Joshua is like a son to me. I raised that boy and you’ve no right to judge me. You, a simple Player. You are nothing but a pawn in the grand scheme of things and if I had the authority I would Erase you from this city as fast as a breath.”_

“You,” Neku swallowed hard. His eyes were watering and he clutched the countertop edge with his hands for something to hold onto. “You lied to me.”

_“I had to lie. I had no other choice.”_

“I trusted you.”

_“And I thank you for your trust. However, it was not needed nor is it necessary for you to have carried out the mission set in your soul.”_

Neku dropped his gaze to his fingers. “I was scared.”

The angel form collapsed. Mr. H stood in his usual mess and he stared at Neku as if he hadn’t just become a monster of legend before the boy. “I know. I was, too. For what it’s worth, which ain’t much, Joshua was just as frightened. He saw tha world he loved begin ta rot. It ain’t easy for a Composer ta see the thing they love most destroyed by anger and hate.”

He closed his eyes at the words. Tears continued to streak down his face and he hiccupped a sob. “Joshua, is he okay?”

“Huh? Why not ask ‘im y’self?”

Neku blinked the tears away and wiped the excess on his sleeve. He noticed the short, silvery male leaning on a doorway slightly behind Mr. H. The boy was not a boy, but a man, and he stood glowing with a cup of coffee at his lips. Joshua tilted his gaze to the side to pin Neku with judgment.

“I am quite alright, thank you for asking.”

The Composer’s eyes were too bright. Neku couldn’t keep staring at him for long and he turned away with the intent to leave the café after his little outburst. He hesitated at sliding from the stool, however, and he curled his hands into fists.

There were no words to describe how he felt. Neku tried to think of one but there were too many and none of them had the needed effect. He slumped over, sobbed softly, and began to tremble once more. Neku felt like an idiot. He felt weak and stupid at crying. It had been too much, too much too soon.

“Neku,” the Composer said, voice calm, “be brave. I would not have put you through what I did if I had not seen the outcome. You are special to me. You gave the city hope. It was not I who saved Shibuya. Megumi had no hand in it, either. You, Neku, are the savior of the city.”

“I didn’t want to be.”

“I know,” Joshua whispered. He walked around the counter, set the cup down on the side, and stood behind Neku. “Those who must do, rarely want to.”

He inhaled sharply and turned his stool to face Joshua. “Yeah. It’s just…shit. You guys have a crap moral compass.”

“Oh?” Joshua tapped a long finger to his chin. “I suppose compass isn’t the right word.”

“Nah,” Mr. H said, “it ain’t no compass. Hell, if it were we’ve torn the magnet out and just point it wherever tha Hell we feel like.”

Neku couldn’t help but laugh. “At least you’re honest. Oh, wait, no, you’re not.”

“I’m glad you still have your humor,” Joshua teased. He smiled at Neku with a loving sort of grin and his eyes sparkled with pride. “Are you staying?”

“Not today. Actually,” he slid from the stool and held up his notebook, “Report Nineteen – Somewhere out there is a version of me who got to punch Joshua in the face several times. Report Five – If decals auto-detune a person in the UG to RG, does that mean I can punch Joshua in the face inside the WildKat Café?”

Joshua laughed brightly, but he wasn’t prepared for the hit. Two seconds before Neku’s fist contacted flesh, Neku noticed the same look of surprise the Composer had upon Megumi absorbing him. Crumpling to the floor, Joshua made a sound of pain and curled inward.

“Damn, that felt _good_.” Neku hopped off the stool, walked to the door, and hesitated. “Oh, before I forget, Mr. H…Report Twenty-two – I am never paying for another cup of coffee or food item in this shit establishment again. How’s that for gratitude?”

“Wait, that’s-“

Neku started to open the door. He cursed and went back to the counter, digging in his coat pocket for the series of Polaroids he’d taken earlier. Tossing them on the counter, he grinned as Mr. H put them in order with a wrinkle growing on his forehead.

“…is this?”

“Yep. I thought I’d do some redecorating, starting with your shit mural. Have fun imprinting on that, you lying son of a bitch. I’ll be back tomorrow for dinner,” he warned, shooting the bleeding Composer a look. “You’re going to be here, too.”

“But, Neku-“ Joshua began to argue, his nose trickling blood.

Neku knelt down, took the Composer by the collar, and lifted him up. “You are going to be here because I’m not going to have a friend who doesn’t do friend things. Also, you owe me for paying for your meals during the second week. I want something nice.”

He dropped Joshua with a fwump and strolled from the café, pausing only to give one last barb, “how’s that for a rift?”

The bell chimed as the door shut and Neku began to whistle.

It was a bright, sunny day in Shibuya.

**Author's Note:**

> This came about from a conversation I had with Megafowl/Meredithsock.
> 
> Also, there were more notes taken, but Neku is going to keep those secret. ;3


End file.
